


The Holiday

by alimacbrux



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: 'The Holiday' AU, American!Dan, Christmas fic, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Vaguely implied/reference to smut, but no smut, parent!phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 03:29:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alimacbrux/pseuds/alimacbrux
Summary: When Dan's long-term girlfriend cheats on him, he decides he needs a break for once and entails upon a house-swap with a girl from England. There, he meets the brother of the girl and thus begins a whirlwind, complicated relationship.AKA a "The Holiday" AU





	The Holiday

“Did. You. Sleep. With. Him?” Dan shrieked, punctuating his every word with a slap on Veronica's arm with a spare t-shirt. He was red in the face and he could already tell he was going to lose his voice soon what with all of his yelling. 

“I did not! I swear!” Veronica shouted back, hands on her hips and a sharp scowl etched into her face. She was standing in the doorway of their bedroom, watching Dan grabbing loose items of clothes on the floor like he was burned by every bit of fabric. 

Dan rolled his eyes, pausing his hurried collection of clothes. “Oh? Swear on my life that you didn't sleep with him, then,” he snapped, hitting his thigh with a sheer blouse. 

Veronica spluttered a bit, struggling to find the words to say. Dan groaned in exasperation, tossing the clothes on the bed. “I–well I shouldn't–I shouldn't have to do that, Dan. You should trust me—” Veronica began. 

“Trust you? Right. Because you have to be working until 3 am with your assistant, do you?” Dan picked up the clothes off the bed again and brushed past Veronica, storming down the steps towards the front door. He could hear Veronica's footsteps following him just as fast. “We've had problems all year. I've had enough.” 

Dan tossed the clothes onto the front steps, frowning at Veronica as she stepped past. “You always do this. Pushing everyone out of your life and ruining your own relationships!” Veronica ranted, picking up her clothes off the pavement. 

“Oh, it's my fault you cheated on me with some 20-something assistant, is it?” he spat, fuming, waving his arms in the air. 

“For the last time, I didn't sleep with him!” 

Dan rolled his eyes, stomping into the house again and slamming the door. He stormed up the stairs again and out onto the balcony, leaning over to shout down at his now ex-girlfriend. “We can't go on like this, Veronica. We just can't,” he called, leaning over the banister. 

“Fine! Whatever, Dan. If that's what you want,” Veronica replied, clutching her clothes to her chest like a security blanket. 

“Just–tell me, Veronica. Did you sleep with him?” Dan asked, sighing in defeat. He ran his fingers through his curls again, mussing them up into a wild bird's nest. “This is over either way, you might as well tell me.” 

Veronica sighed, loosening her death grip on her things. After a long pause, Veronica finally said, “Fine. Yes, I slept with him. You happy?” 

Dan scoffed. “Am I happy?Am I happy!” he exclaimed, laughing humorlessly, “I’ll send you your shit later. Bye, Veronica.” Without another word, Dan turned on his heel and stepped back inside his bedroom, slamming the door to the balcony so hard the windows rattled. With another frustrated groan, he dropped face first onto his bed and stuffed his face in the pillows. 

*

Dan: hi! is your house still available to stay in? 

Amy: Yes! But only for a house exchange. 

Amy: You know, we stay in each other's house, use each other's car and whatnot. All that. 

Dan, in a desperate attempt to find some place to go for the holidays on his own. For the first time in about 6 years. Somehow in his little Google search, he stumbled upon a house-exchange site and found a cute little cottage in Surrey. England! He'd never been there before. 

Now, he was messaging the owner of the home, trying to arrange when they would be swapping houses. 

Amy: Does tomorrow sound good? Or is that too soon. 

Dan: consider me there already. 

*

19 hours later, Dan was half asleep in the back seat of a car, curled up on the back like he would die of jetlag. He thought he just might. He'd never been on such a long flight. His Xanax that he popped on the flight was still running through his veins, so that he was still passed out in the back seat until the car jostled to a stop. 

“Excuse me? Sir?” 

Dan shot to a seating position, narrowly missing hitting his head on the ceiling and looking around. “Wha—? Are we here?” he asked, eyes widening when he came face to face with, not a cozy cottage but a snow-covered cemetery. Lovely. 

“It's just down that lane there,” the driver said, indicating towards an abandoned looking pathway covered in snow, “But I won't be able to back my car up.” 

Dan scoffed, looking back and forth between the road and the driver. “Um, absolutely not. Drive me there, thanks.” 

He did not. 

*

Dan shivered for about the tenth time that evening, shuffling down the rickety wooden steps in his black wooly jumper and thick socks. “Doesn't anyone have a fucking heating system in this country?” he muttered to himself, looking around the room for a heating system. 

Behind him, Dan heard the jingle-jangle of Amy's dog, Charlie, padding down the stairs. Dan tilted his head, grinning down at the golden ball of fur stopping at his feet. “I'm gonna have to light the fireplace, aren't I?” Dan asked, poking Charlie's nose and looking around for a match somewhere. 

A few minutes later, with the fireplace well lit, Dan was settling back under the thick white duvet and turning off the bedside lamp. Charlie was curled up in his bed, already fast asleep, the lucky git. Dan tossed and turned, fluffing up his pillows and adjusting his covers to get comfortable despite the freezing air and the light peeking in from the window. 

Bang bang bang. 

Dan yelped, jolting up from his half-slumber. “What the hell?” he muttered, leaping out of bed and making his way out of the room. Charlie was hot on his heels, following him down the stairs as the banging on the door continued. 

“Amy? I know you're home, let me in or I'm gonna end up pissing in your bushes!” A deep, British accent called through the door. 

Dan startled, sputtering as he unlocked the front door. Standing on the front step was a very disheveled, drunk looking man with dark black hair in a quiff and bright, slightly bloodshot blue eyes. 

“Oh! You're–you’re not Amy. Definitely not,” the man remarked, looking taken aback as he looked Dan up and down. 

Dan chuckled, shaking his head and leaning against the open door. “No, there's a few biological faults there, I'd say,” Dan joked, smirking. 

“Well not-Amy, I hate to impose, but I wasn't kidding about the peeing thing,” the man replied, gesturing behind Dan where he knew a bathroom lay beneath the steps. Dan stepped aside and the man hurried past him, ducking into the toilet and shutting the door behind him. 

“There's a random strange, very attractive man here, what the fuck is England?” Dan muttered, running his fingers through his hair habitually and pacing in front of the door. “Very attractive.” Dan frantically began fixing how he looked, fixing his trousers and hair in the little mirror by the kitchen. 

“Erm, sorry for the vulgarity, by the way. I'm not usually this bad… when I'm sober.” Before Dan could even process it, the man was out of the toilet again and wiping off water from his hands on his coat. “My name's Phil, by the way,” he added, holding out his hand for Dan to shake. 

“Dan. My name's Dan.” 

Phil nodded, leaning against the divide between the kitchen area and the living area. His face fell barely an inch away from Dan's and he felt himself stumbling away. “Sorry. Do you–mind if I sit? I'm afraid I might fall into you if I'm not in a chair soon,” Phil asked, voice somewhat slurred. 

“No! No! Go ahead. Sit,” Dan replied, gesturing half-heartedly at the couch. Phil muttered his thanks and stumbled over to the sofa, falling onto it with a sigh and looking up at the ceiling. 

“Hey, Dan? Where's Amy? She's not stuffed in a closet is she?” Phil asked the ceiling, eyes peering over at Dan. He turned his head to look back at Dan, sending his heart a billion miles per hour, trying to jump out of his chest. 

Dan laughed, flapping a hand. “No, she's actually in LA at the moment. We did a housing exchange thing online, so she's staying in my place for two weeks and I'm here,” he explained, standing in front of Phil on the couch. 

“That's a thing?” 

Dan shrugged, hands up. “Apparently.” 

Phil shook his head, falling back on the couch again. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands and groaned, sitting back up again and looking Dan over again. “Oh, God. I swear I'm usually normal. I just can't handle my drinks, apparently,” Phil said, chuckling and rubbing his eyes again. 

“Do you want a drink? Some tea or some wine or something?” Dan suggested, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms across his chest. 

Phil leaned forwards, squinting at the kitchen. “I think I see a Brandy over there on the shelf. We could split that,” Phil suggested, pointing across the room at the shelf. Dan turned and looking over, wandering into the kitchen to make them both a glass. 

“So, how are you liking England so far?” Phil asked a few minutes later as Dan handed over the crystal glass filled with the liquid courage. He took a small sip, smiling cheekily at Dan. Dan's stomach squirmed under the attention. 

“I'm leaving tomorrow, so…” 

Phil chuckled, putting the glass on the table by his seat. “We've had a good impression on you then.” Phil laughed heartily, tongue poking between his teeth. 

“It's not that, honestly,” Dan replied quickly, “It's just–I’m not myself lately. I came here on a whim, which is completely unlike me. I usually plan things to the nines, but here I am in fucking England in a tiny cottage with shit heating and an attractive stranger in the living room.” 

“Attractive stranger, am I?” Phil waggled his eyebrows, picking up the glass and taking yet another swig, maintaining eye contact. Dan's face flushed violently and he forced himself to look away, chewing on his bottom. There was a long, somewhat awkward silence that fell between them then and Dan took advantage by taking a sip of the fiery Brandy. “What did you mean before? When you said you're 'not yourself?’” 

“I sorta broke up with my girlfriend. Yesterday,” Dan admitted, finishing his drink in one last gulp. 

Phil cleared his throat, nodding nad sitting back against the cushions. He had a thoughtful look on his face, eyebrows knitted slightly and fiddling with the glass in his lap. “Girlfriend,” he said, “Erm, I'm sorry you broke up?” 

“Don't be, she cheated on me and I'm just. I dunno, done,” Dan said, feigning nonchalance. Feeling brave, Dan wandered over and sat down right next to Phil, knee brushing his. “And bisexual.” 

Phil's eyes widened, mouth falling open in surprise. 

“You know, I was thinking,” Dan began, lowering his voice and scooting ever closer, “I'm leaving tomorrow and you probably won't remember me or anything tomorrow, so.” 

Phil raised his eyebrows, edging Dan on. 

“We should have sex.” 

Phil spluttered, falling back against the cushions again and blinking rapidly. “If you're into that, obviously.” Dan said, sitting back to give Phil room in case he had been reading things wrong. 

Instead of replying, Phil lunged forwards, capturing Dan's lips in his and nearly toppling him off the couch. Dan hummed against the soft, warm lips pressing insistently against his and pulled them both to a standing position. Dan stumbled backwards, followed by Phil and up the stairs they went. 

*

The next morning, Dan was attempting to turn on the coffee machine with very little success. He was swearing up a storm, pushing every button in sight. 

“Morning.” 

Dan spun around. Phil was leaning against the wall, fully dressed much to Dan's disappointment. “Morning,” Dan mumbled, turning back to the coffee maker with his cheeks a scarlet shade. 

Phil walked over, giggling and leaning over the counter. He clicked on the plug and the coffee machine promptly came to life, all lights flashing brightly. “Right. Forgot you had to do that here,” Dan mumbled sheepishly as Phil shook his head and walked over to where his coat was hanging over the wooden chair by the dining table. 

“I've lost my contacts somewhere, I apologise,” Phil said, rifling through his pockets of his coat and pulling out a glasses case. He popped it open and pushed on a pair of sleek black glasses, looking back at Dan and grinning. “Much better.”

“Erm, it was nice meeting you, Dan,” Phil said, swinging his coat around with a flourish and pulling it on effortlessly. He winked, buttoning up his coat and fixing the collar. “Perhaps I'll see you around, but I've, erm, got to go now.” 

Dan nodded vigorously, pushing off of the counter and walking over to meet Phil at the door. “Perhaps I will,” he replied, pressing a chaste kiss to Phil's cheek, reveling in the pink that washed his pale skin upon impact. 

“See you later, Daniel.” 

And with that, Phil stepped out into the frosty air and out onto the path. He turned around to wave goodbye to Dan and then he was walking away down the country lane. Out of Dan's sight but nowhere near out of his mind. 

“Fucking hell,” Dan groaned, leaning against the door. 

*

The next day, Dan was still in England. Deciding to give the town another try, he made his way into town in Amy's little red Mini. He narrowly avoided a lorry on the thin road and somehow found himself inside a quaint little pub filled with locals. No one paid him any mind, talking with each other over pints of beer and glasses of whiskey and wine. 

Dan was in his own little world, sipping at his red wine while reading through The Bell Jar. He finally had some time to actually read a book, no longer attached to his editing software or Veronica's side. 

“Mind if I join you?” 

Dan looked up abruptly, beaming when he found himself staring up at a pair of familiar crystal blue eyes behind a pair of equally familiar glasses. 

“Phil! Hi!” Dan chimed, standing up to hug Phil in greeting. “Can I get you a drink or something?” 

Phil laughed, slipping into the seat across from Dan. He peered down at the book in front of Dan and replied, “Nice book choice. That's a favourite of mine.” After a beat. “But yeah, why not?” 

*

“Oh, God,” Dan whined the next morning, stumbling downstairs into the kitchen with his pulse everywhere in his body, “That's the most I've drank in… Nope, that's the most I've drank ever.” 

Phil was sitting at the table with a mug steaming with coffee. His glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose while he giggled at Dan's appearance, looking up from his book. “Morning, sunshine.” 

Dan grunted in reply, looking down at one of the other chairs. There was a pair of black Calvin Kleins draped over it haphazardly. “Oh, God. We didn't–” Dan gestured frantically with his hands for something that conveyed what he was assuming they did in their drunken stupor. 

Phil chuckled, closing his book and shaking his head. “Nope. Nothing like that,” he explained. 

Dan leaned against the wall, sighing in relief. “Oh, thank God.” Phil raised his eyebrows, putting his hand to his chest in mock offense. “I don't mean that. I mean–thank God.” 

“Why didn't we, by the way?” Dan asked after a pause. He could feel the tension growing in the air and desperately chased it away hopelessly. 

“Well, I didn't think it was the best idea to have sex with someone who was unconscious and wine-drunk, funnily enough,” Phil replied seriously, taking a draught of his coffee. “You were undressing the entire way up the stairs, so I helped you into bed and slept down here on the couch.” He gestured behind Dan where, on the couch, Dan could see a fluffy grey blanket hanging half off the sofa. Charlie was settled nearby, asleep. 

Dan dropped his head forward, violet roses blooming on his cheeks in embarrassment. His brain twitched in his skull, rattling against the inside and reminding him of the problem at hand. “Do you have any idea where Amy keeps her pain killers? I think my head's been split in half or something,” Dan asked, trying to change the subject off his drunken escapades. 

Phil nodded, pointing his thumb over his shoulder at the cupboards. Dan mosied over to the cupboard and rifled around the shelves, harrumphing when he found a box of Paracetamol. Dan was just popping a couple of the white pills into his hand and reaching for a glass when his ears pricked at the familiar theme of My Neighbour Totoro. 

“Olivia,” Dan read aloud, looking down at Phil's phone on the table. “Sorry, I'm invading again.” Dan's cheeks flamed again and he quickly stuffed the pills in his mouth and downed some water. 

Phil grabbed the phone, answering it quickly and getting to his feet. “I've gotta get this. I'll be back in a sec,” he explained, holding the phone to his ear, “Hey! Yeah, one second.” Phil wandered over to the front door and stepped outside and into the garden, still on the phone. 

Dan watched Phil pacing around the garden, chatting away on his phone. He took a deep breath and let it out, feeling his chest constricting with jealousy. Who was Olivia? Dan knew they weren't a couple at all so Phil was free to see whomever he liked, but that didn't stop the uncomfortable feeling settling in his stomach and heart. 

A little while later, Phil had to go home again. He apologised profusely, promising to make it up to Dan. “I know we agreed not to make this complicated, but do you wanna join me for lunch tomorrow?” Phil asked, tying his bright red scarf around his neck and stepping onto the front steps of the house. 

Dan positively beamed, dimples popping and eyes glimmering. “Absolutely,” he replied. He took hold of the lapels of Phil's coat and pulled him into a short yet promising kiss. “Noon work for you?” 

Phil nodded, stepping away with one last tentative smile and then he was gone again. 

*

“So, what do you do for work?” Dan asked, leaning over the cloth covered table and fidgeting with his silverware. They were now sat in a local Italian restaurant which was bustling with people eating and talking and laughing. 

“I'm a book editor, actually.” 

“Oh, nice. What kind of editor?” 

Phil chuckled, holding his glass up to his lips to take a sip of his soda. “A mean one. I can be very picky about them sometimes,” he replied once his drink was back on the table. 

“Do you write notes? How do you do it?”

“Wow, if I thought this was gonna be like a job interview…” Phil joked, holding his hands up in surrender. 

Dan put his face in his hands, groaning in frustration at himself. “Ugh, sorry. I haven't been on a first date in ages. I can't remember how to do these,” Dan admitted, throwing back some of his lemonade. God, he wished it was alcoholic. 

“I think now that we've already had sex and slept together twice, we can skip the rules,” Phil replied with a laugh, “Tell me about your family.” 

“This is gonna be dead depressing,” Dan warned, “Well my parents split up when I was 15 and I'm an only child. It came as a huge shock for me. We were always super close as a family and even called ourselves the Three Musketeers. 

“But then one day, my parents sat me down and told me they were breaking up,” Dan rambled, toying with the napkin settled in his lap. “And out of the corner of my eye, just in the front hall, I saw a suitcase by the door. My dad moved out that night and I, uh, never saw him again.” Dan was staring rather wistfully over Phil's shoulder, thinking back to that fateful day where his life was changed forever. 

“I cried myself to sleep for I dunno how long. Weeks maybe,” Dan continued, “But then I told myself I had to toughen up and couldn't let this control me or my life. I haven't cried since.” 

Phil blinked, mouth dropping open in surprise. “Seriously? Never? I cry all the time. I never stop,” Phil said, “Good book. Sad film. Sappy birthday card. Anything. I'm a weeper.” 

“I dunno. There's gotta be some sort of reason but I just haven't. I mean, I try to, but it just doesn't happen.” 

Phil shook his head, cutting a piece of steak and popping it into his mouth in thought. “I couldn't even go a week without crying nevermind years,” Phil remarked, swallowing the bit of meat like it was impossible to do so. 

“Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about you.” 

*

The next evening, Dan had nothing better to do with his life than to sit around and watch British soap operas or read through The Bell Jar. He hadn't planned to do anything with Phil that evening, but he was feeling restless and impulsive, possibly from the glass of wine he had already finished. 

Perhaps that was how he found himself walking up the little stone pathway leading up to Phil's front door, carrying a brown paper bag full of wine and various British snack foods. He was humming a Christmas song under his breath as he knocked on the front door, admiring the colourful gnome sitting next to a pot of dying plants. 

After a minute waiting, the door opened slowly, revealing Phil. “Oh! Dan, hi. I didn't know you'd be coming over tonight.” Phil's eyes were wide as saucers, like a hare caught in the headlights of a tractor. He was dressed rather casually in a pair of grey joggers and a Nyan Cat t-shirt, hair pushed back in a messy half-quiff. 

Dan finally noticed the distinct Christmas music playing inside the house and felt his face go warm as a furnace. “Shit. Are you, er, not alone?” Dan asked, voice low and sheepish. 

Phil opened his mouth to reply, shaking his head. Suddenly, the front door opened further and out stepped a little girl no older than five. She had mousy brown hair hanging loosely around her shoulders and was dressed in blue floral pajamas, looking up at Dan with familiar blue eyes. “Hello there,” the little girl squeaked, blinking back between the two men towering over her. 

Dan's jaw fell to the concrete and he spluttered for a reply. “Uh, hi there,” Dan blurted, stepping back from the entrance. If he had been dawdling and fooling around with a married man this entire time, Dan would never forgive himself. Or Phil. 

Before Phil could reply, yet again the door swung open and yet another little girl wandered out. She couldn't be older than four or five, waddling out with wild ginger hair and bright brown doe eyes. “Daddy, who's that?” she asked, ignoring Dan and staring up at Phil. Phil bent down to pick the little girl up, supporting her on his hip. 

Phil smiled shyly, face red as he looked between the three people all looking at him. “Erm, this is Olivia,” he said bouncing the ginger on his hip, “ And that's Sophia. Guys, this is Dan.” 

Sophia waved at Dan, eyes wide. She looked back at Phil and said, rather strictly, “Aren't you going to invite him in, daddy?” 

Phil opened his mouth and closed it again, deciding to stay silent and simply let Dan step inside the house. He placed Olivia back down on her feet and straightened out her Spiderman pajamas. Dan almost wanted to compliment the clothing choice. 

“Is that for us?” Sophia asked, pointing one of her small fingers at the bag Dan was still holding at his side. 

Dan looked down at it and smiled. “Oh, yeah, definitely. Maybe not the wine, though. Sorry about that,” he replied politely. 

“Hey girls, why don't you go and take this stuff into the living room and we'll go join you in a sec, yeah?” Phil said, taking the wine bottle out of the bag in Dan's hand and letting the girls carry it together over to the bright and colourful tree. They immediately began pulling the bread and the packets of crisps, giggling and chattering away merrily. Phil finally turned back to Dan. “Look, I can explain—” 

Dan held up his hand, stopping Phil in his tracks. “Are you married, Phil? Seriously, because we can't—” Dan began, preparing a rant about cheating and being a good role model to his adorable daughters. 

“I'm not, Dan. I promise.” 

Dan blinked, shutting his mouth instantly. “Oh. Are you divorced then?” he asked, gaze wandering back to the girls. They were currently tucking into a tube of Salt and Vinegar Pringles. 

Phil looked down at the floor, worrying his lip between his teeth. “Uh, no actually. W-i-d-o-w-e-r. As of about a year ago,” Phil explained, spelling out the word that suddenly made Dan want to cry. If he could. A windower? With two kids on his own? That was pretty damn admirable. 

“Fuck. That's awful,” Dan replied bluntly, squeezing Phil's bicep. “It's amazing you take care of them all by yourself.” He let his hand linger on Phil's arm, rubbing his pointer finger up and down his pale skin. It sent an obvious shiver down Phil's spine. 

“Daddy, we're hungry! You promised us spaghetti!” Sophia whined, hurrying over with her little sister trailing behind her, clutching one of her hands. It made Dan's heart skip happily. 

“Alright, alright. Let's go then,” Phil announced, leaning down to pick Olivia up. He threw her over his shoulder firefighter style, making her shriek, and carried her into the kitchen. 

Dan looked down at Sophia, tilting his head. “Shall we follow those two gremlins?” he asked, smiling. Sophia nodded, taking Dan's hand in hers and pulling him towards the kitchen. 

*

“Rawr, I'm Mr. Napkin Man!” The four of them were now in the kitchen, finished with their spaghetti. Phil had a napkin on his face and his glasses over it, trying to make the girls laugh. 

He put on a rather awful American accent and said, “Hi, I'm Dan and I come from California and I sound weird!” The two girls screamed with laughter, pointing and smiling. Dan shook his head, laughing fondly at the three Lesters he was surrounded by. Olivia was currently settled in his lap, bouncing up and down as she giggled wildly. 

“That doesn't sound like Dan, Daddy!” Olivia squealed, leaning her head against Dan's chest to look up at him. 

Dan poked her nose and put on an equally terrible English accent. “No, no it does not!” 

“That doesn't sound like Daddy!” Sophia giggled, tongue poking between her teeth.She must have gotten that from Phil. 

“Can we show Dan the tent, Daddy? Please?” Olivia asked after their laughter died down and Phil removed the napkin and replaced his glasses. 

“I don't see why not.” 

Olivia clambered out of Dan's lap and scurried out of the kitchen before Dan could even react. Sophia hurried after her, shouting her sister's name. Dan and Phil both followed them up the stairs and down the hallway, stopping at the last room on the left. 

Inside, there was a massive white canopy hanging from the ceiling. There was multi-coloured fairy lights strung up and a huge pile of pillows of all colours and shapes and sizes and an equally astonishing array of stuffed animals. There was even a giant brown teddy bear propped up on one side, head tilted sideways with the sheer weight. 

“Come on!” Olivia and Sophia both pleaded. Dan and Phil settled down against a few of the cushions between the two girls. Dan had Olivia on his left and Phil had Sophia on his right. 

“This is amazing! Did you make this?” Dan asked, staring up at the twinkling lights overhead. He turned to look at Olivia who was cuddling a Totoro stuffie almost as big as she was. 

“The three of us made it! We're like the Three Musketeers!” Sophia exclaimed with a giggle. 

Beside him, Dan suddenly felt Phil's hand bumping his and Dan laced their fingers together, squeezing lightly. A grin melted across his face and he felt Olivia shuffling closer to rest her head against his chest. He melted even more. 

This was perfection, Dan realised. He felt safe and happy under the pretty canopy, a tiny child tucked up under one arm while he held hands with a handsome and welcoming man that had flipped Dan's world like a snowglobe. He felt warm and content, turning his head to look at Phil, staring at him for longer than should be normal. 

It was complete and utter perfection. 

*

Once the girls were put to their beds, Phil led Dan into another sitting room with a large bookshelf of hundreds of DVDs and books of all genres and age groups. Dan caught sight of plenty of Disney and Studio Ghibli films along with cult classics like The Godfather and Pulp Fiction and the Harry Potter series. They settled down beside each other on a comfy brown couch, knees pressed up against each other's. 

There was a pregnant, tense pause between them as the silence was drawn out. Dan played with a loose thread in his jumper, bottom lip stuck between his teeth. 

Phil was the one to break the quiet first. He cleared his throat and said, “So, uh, sorry for the bit of a bombshell I dropped on you. I didn't expect you to be over tonight.” He rubbed the back of his head, face slightly flushed. 

Dan bobbed his head back and forth insistently, putting his hand on Phil's thigh reassuringly. “Don't apologise. They're lovely, Phil. I love kids,” Dan assured, sending Phil a grin. 

“To be honest, I wasn't planning on telling you about them,” Phil admitted. 

Dan raised his eyebrows, pulling away his hand on Phil's thigh. “You weren't?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. 

Phil bit his lip and replied, “We said we didn't want to complicate things and me being a father definitely complicates things, so.” 

“Yeah, definitely wasn't expecting you to be that kind of ‘daddy.’”

Phil spluttered, jaw dropping and reaching out to slap Dan's shoulder. “I just–I didn't want to introduce you to the girls if I wasn't going to see you again. That would complicate things for them as well,” Phil continued, moving on from Dan's terrible joke. The serious atmosphere settled on Dan's shoulders again, clouding his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I get that. I'm sorry for surprising you like that,” Dan replied, “But the girls truly are amazing. You've done a great job raising them, I can tell.” 

Phil looked down at his lap, soft smile pulling at his lips and peering sideways at Dan. “Thanks,” he mumbled through his crimson cheeks, “It's hard raising two girls all by myself. They can be quite the handful. I just want to be a good enough parent for them and make sure they grow up happy and safe and healthy, even without Melissa.” 

“Was Melissa your wife?” 

Phil sat up straight, bobbing his head. “Yeah. She was brilliant. I don't know how I manage without her,” he explained, voice soft and thoughtful, “After she died of cancer, it took me a long time to get used to being a single parent. But Amy has been amazing and I have a friend who takes them sometimes to give me a break.” 

Dan squeezed Phil's thigh, leaning forward to peck his cheek. “I maintain that you're a wonderful father to them, Phil.” 

“I'm sorry I didn't tell you,” Phil said, smiling sheepishly, “I guess I just wanted to pretend everything was normal again, pretend I wasn't a single father and windower struggling to raise them alone. 

“I'm always covered in chocolate sauce or glitter or I'm half dressed in a too-small cape or sipping from a tiny teacup with nothing in it,” he rambled, “With you, I didn't have to be that. I didn't have to be a prince in a castle or covered in glitter and glue and markers or get a chocolate stain on my trousers. With you, I could be myself. And I guess I just wanted to live in that fantasy for once.” 

Once he finished his rant, Phil exhaled heavily and fall back against the suede couch, shutting his eyes. Dan crawled over closer, throwing his leg over Phil’s legs and straddling his thighs. Phil opened his eyes, looking up at Dan through his lashes. “I'm glad to be your fantasy, even if only for a few days,” Dan replied lowly, barely above a whisper. He leaned forward, capturing Phil's lips in his own and pressing his tongue inside to explore him. 

“I'm glad you're my fantasy as well,” Phil whispered, pulling back for a second before diving right back in. 

*

Christmas day flew by for Dan. He didn't bring any presents and he was all by himself for most of the day. He binge watched Christmas movies with Charlie on the couch, eating through and entire bag of Doritos and ordering in a pizza from a local pizza place. 

Dan had always been a fan of Christmas, always loved the festive decorations with all the colourful lights and trees and the annoying yet catchy music. He liked giving presents to his friends and family and seeing his family dog, Colin. He had always had a soft spot for the holiday. 

But this year, he just felt off. He had no one to spend the holiday with. Phil was at his own house, spending Christmas with his two gorgeous daughters and his parents were home for the day. 

Dan was alone on his favourite holiday for the first time in six years. 

Dan was in the middle of watching White Christmas, Charlie settled in his lap while he ran his hands over the dog's soft fur. 

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, giving both Dan and Charlie a fright. The terrier leapt off Dan's knee and began barking wildly at the front door. Dan's eyebrows knitted together and he made his way over to the door. He gasped when he saw Phil's beautiful face through the tiny viewing window, throwing the door open. 

“Phil! Hi!” he shrieked, throwing himself into Phil's arms, “Merry Christmas!” Phil swayed side to side, arms wrapped protectively around Dan's middle. 

“Happy Christmas, Dan,” Phil whispered, pulling away just enough to look at him. 

“I thought you were with the girls tonight!” 

Phil shrugged, kissing Dan's nose with a grin. “My parents offered to watch them tonight. I thought you might want the company.” 

Dan raised his eyebrows, beaming. He took hold of Phil's red tie and started pulling him inside the house, walking backwards and nearly hitting the door with his head. “I definitely needed the company,” he replied, batting his eyelashes and shutting the door behind them. 

*

The two men flopped onto their backs with their heads at the foot of the bed. Phil tucked his face into the crook of his arm, breathing heavily post-coitus. Dan giggled, tracing his finger along the ridges and valleys of Phil's chest. He pressed a chaste kiss to Phil's shoulder and laid back down, turning his head to blink at Phil. 

“Only a few more days until I leave,” Dan commented, shutting his eyes. 

Phil nodded, humming. “I know. I'll miss you,” he whispered, snaking his hand down to lace his fingers between Dan's. “What do you want to do about, you know, us?” Dan opened his eyes again, squeezing Phil's hand. 

He sighed heavily, pulling out of Phil's grasp and sitting up. “We could do long distance, I suppose,” Phil commented, holding Dan's stare, “Those can work sometimes, I know.” 

“Yeah, for a time,” Dan replied bluntly, “Maybe we'll try it for six months. We can go back and forth, stopping in New York or going between London and Cali, texting and calling and Skyping and Instagramming.” He spoke rapidly and passionately, rambling meaningfully and using his hands in wild gestures. 

“And then?” 

Dan inhaled and exhaled, messing his curls with his hands. “I dunno. Maybe Sophia and Olivia will get confused about you always leaving or they'll miss you. We'll get frustrated with not seeing each other ever and start fighting all the time because we don't know what else to do. And then eventually, you'll stop calling and messaging or we'll drift away until the most contact we get is a ‘Merry Christmas’ or a birthday wish to the girls.” 

Phil sat up then, leaning on his hands. “Wow, you've thought about this a lot, haven't you?” he replied, laughing humorlessly. “Or?” 

Dan nodded. “Or we can stop now. We say goodbye when I leave and I don't contact you and you don't contact me. Rip the band-aid off now instead of lengthening the process.” 

Phil fell back onto the bed, arms out to the side. He shut his eyes for a second, steeling himself and taking a deep breath. “I don't like that plan either,” he whispered, sitting up again. 

Phil took another heavy inhale, letting it draw out as if he was blowing out a cigarette drag, “Look, I'm sorry for the blunt delivery and I'm sorry this will likely complicate things further, but the fact is; I am in love with you,” he blurted, gasping once he realised what he said. He slapped his hands over his mouth, face turning a violent shade of blood red. “And it's not because you're leaving soon or I love the idea of you or I like the feeling. I mean, I do, but that's not important. The fact is, I know I come with a package deal, but I finally know what I want. And what I want is you.” 

“Oh.” Dan had no idea how to reply to that. His heart was racing in his chest, breathing growing unsteady and rapid. “I don't know what to say,” he said, attempting to calm his lungs. 

Phil bit his lip, nodding. He looked away, blinking rapidly. His eyes were glassy as an ice rink, ready to shatter and pour out endless water droplets raining down his cheeks. He sat up, throwing the covers off his legs and hopping out of bed. “Uh, I-I'm sorry. I should go,” he babbled, a few tears falling onto the ground as he hurried around the bedroom, pulling on pants and his shirt. 

“You don't have to go, Phil. Please,” Dan pleaded, helplessly watching the other man scuttling around the room and crying. 

Phil finished getting dressed and Dan leapt out of bed, pulling on the closest pair of pants he saw. Phil hurried out of the bedroom, wiping his face. Dan ran after him, catching his arm. 

“I’ve never met someone like you in my life, Phil. And I know this is all temporary and far too complicated, but can we please just come back? Just tonight. Please,” Dan rambled, leaning his forehead on Phil's. 

“I'm sorry. I know you promised you wouldn't fall in love with me, but I just. I'm sorry,” Phil said, trying to stay on topic. But Dan wasn't having that. He didn't want to think about how he might just love Phil as well and how completely and utterly fucked he was because of it. 

“I didn't think I knew anyone who talks more than me, but wow,” Dan said, laughing, “Can we just, you know, be quiet? Just tonight?” 

Phil nodded, another raindrop falling from his sky blue eyes and rolling down his cheek. Dan wiped away the tear with his thumb and lunged into kissing Phil again. It was desperate and electric and before Dan knew it, they were sprawled out on Dan's bed again. 

*

Before either of them was prepared at all, the day Dan had to go home came all too soon. 

It had snowed yet again that night, leaving the entire area in a fresh blanket of white, reminding Dan of a generic Christmas card or snow globe. Dan's bag was packed and sitting in the trunk of the car while the driver waited and he was standing outside with Phil. Phil had more tears beginning to well up, fingers clutching the lapels of Dan's coat. 

“So we're not going to make this anymore complicated than it has to be,” Dan said, unsure of who he was telling. Phil shook his head, agreeing. “So I'll just kiss you for the millionth time again and get going.” Phil laughed wetly, pulling Dan into a sloppy, heartbroken kiss, bracketing Dan's cheeks with his hands.

Dan pulled back from the kiss, sighing. “Take care of yourself,” Phil whispered against Dan's lips, rubbing his thumb along his cheeks. 

Dan nodded, pulling away fully out of Phil's arms and chewing on his lip. “You too. And take care of the girls for me, too,” Dan replied, taking a back step off the porch and making his way down the pathway to the gate. He stopped to wave over his shoulder, blowing a kiss towards Phil and then he opened the gate and clambered into the back seat of the car. 

The car pulled away from the house, leaving Dan with one last view of Phil standing on the front step and waving. Even through the back window, car speeding away down the country lane, Dan could see Phil beginning to cry. Dan turned around to face forwards only when Phil stepped inside the house and was gone from view. 

“You have a good holiday, sir?” The driver asked, looking at Dan in the rearview mirror. 

Dan nodded. “Yeah, great. Maybe the best ever,” he replied breathlessly, turning to look out the window at the snow covered trees racing past in a green and white blur. 

He closed his eyes, thinking back to all the memories they had shared, all the nights they spent talking and laughing, among other things. He suddenly felt far too warm in this car, unwrapping his stylish black scarf and fanning himself with his shirt. He didn't want to leave Phil, he realised, leaning his head on the seat and blinking up at the ceiling. 

His eyes burned, memories and trees flying past his view. Belatedly, he noticed the wetness of his cheeks, tears falling rapidly with each memory that overcame him. Dan sat up straight, gasping as more tears dripped down and wetted his face and clothes. A laugh bubbled out as he felt the dampness of his skin, gaining an odd look from the driver in the front. 

“Wait! Stop! Stop the car, please!” he yelped suddenly, leaning forwards on the seats. “Turn around! Go back, please!”

“Forget something, sir?” 

Dan nodded violently, face splitting open in a grin. “Yes! Yes, I did!” The car turned around quickly and the driver was beginning to make his way back down the road again. But he wasn't going nearly as fast as Dan liked. “Wait, it's okay. Just stop.” 

The car pulled to an abrupt stop, nearly tossing Dan out of his seat as he threw off his seatbelt. He kicked open the door and leapt out, already sprinting down the lane. “Wait! Sir, what are you doing?” the driver called after him, climbing out of his seat. 

Dan ran all the way down the road, only stopping once to take a deep breath, hands on his knees. But he continued on, racing down the snowy street and laughing almost hysterically. 

He didn't stop until he came back to that familiar cottage with it's bricks and chimneys blowing out puffs of grey smoke into the air. Laughing again, Dan shoved the gate open and jogged up the path to the front door. Thankfully, it was still unlocked, so he pushed it open, nearly hitting it against the wall. 

“Phil! Phil, I'm back! Phil!” he called, looking around the room. 

Phil appeared in the doorway, his own face damp with tears. Once he saw Dan, he laughed, voice cracking and shoulders coming up in a shrug. “You know, I was just thinking,” Dan breathed, “Why would I ever leave before New Year's Eve? That makes no sense at all. I mean, you didn't exactly ask me out, but you did tell me you love me. So I guess I'm probably not out of a date, am I?” 

“I've got the girls on New Year's Eve,” Phil replied. 

Dan shook his head, wiping a stray tear from his face. “That sounds perfect.” And then he marched over and dragged Phil into a hug, a sob falling out of his mouth as Phil rubbed his hand up and down his back and played with the curls on the back of his head. 

*

It was New Year's Eve, just a couple days later. Amy had just arrived, surprisingly trailing one of Dan's coworkers, Miles.

“Hello! Happy New Years!” She exclaimed when Phil opened the door. Dan was standing just behind, waiting to greet the woman that brought them together. 

“It's lovely to meet you, Amy,” Dan greeted, going in for a hug. She looked very pretty dressed up in a black dress and her hair in curls. “Hi, Miles. What a surprise.” Miles rolled his eyes but greeted Dan just the same. 

“Aunt Amy!” 

There was a tiny storm of footsteps from up the stairs and suddenly Sophia was leaping into Amy's arms. “Sophie! Hello! I'm back!” Amy sang, already carrying the little girl into the sitting room. Miles made himself at home, plopping onto the couch to chat with Sophia and Olivia while Amy made them both a drink. 

Dan appeared back in the sitting room, carrying a tray of various small treats and snacks. He beamed at the cheerful room, alive with people and the TV showcasing a New Year's Eve special. “Hey, baby,” Phil said, coming up from behind Dan and wrapping his arms around his waist, swaying along with the music playing on the screen. 

Dan laughed, pulling out of his arms to set down the tray and talk more with Amy. They hugged again, laughing about the situation. Phil handed Dan a glass of champagne, smirking as Miles challenged Dan to a dance competition. Phil was dancing with his sister, spinning her around under his arm and laughing, watching the two sisters jump up and down together, shrieking with laughter and trying to sing along to Beyoncé. 

Dan and Phil were dancing again, Phil's hands on his hips. Dan proposed they all dance in a circle and began marching animatedly around the coffee table, taking Olivia's hand and shimmying his hips as the group skipped around. 

It was pure bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologise for the many likely typos, I wrote this with two rum and cokes in my system and can't be bothered to edit it. Merry Christmas, if you celebrate it!


End file.
